Yoga Class
by bluefingertips
Summary: Silver's life is a rut of classes, yoga and peppermint coffee. And then he meets her and finds the need to stand up and do a little something different. Silver/Blaze


**Yoga Class- **_this will be in two parts, the second part I'll try to post later or tomorrow. _

When she comes through the door, he notices how quiet she steps. Each paw goes before the other, toe first, as if testing the temperature of the floor, not too cold, or too hot, just right. Her bone-like arms wrap around scrawny shoulders, only parting to close the door behind her, making sure it shuts without a sound. She makes little movement as she unravels her mat, pulling lightly at a small ribbon she's tied down the center. He watches from his place at the front, near the window, as the mat pops open before her.

He expects her to drag it a little closer, to become apart of their little circle, but she doesn't bother. She lifts herself onto it and begins her stretches, moving lithe limbs over and around her body.

He waits for someone to notice her absence, but not a single word is passed regarding the little lilac cat in the corner. There's no rush to welcome the new student, to shake her hand, to ask her name. Or even to find her favorite position.

No one turns to even look, cast her glance or even a friendly smile. They makes jokes to one another, talk about their weekends, their plans. Smirks cross their faces, laughs, maybe the occasional chuckle from the quieter set. But no, not a word for this girl. And it strikes him as odd. He's never seen them act this way before.

He hears his own name called by several people as too enter their room and returns their 'Hellos' and their waves.

But still he watches, he waits.

Yet no one notices.

The class begins late, about ten minutes so. Silver curses himself. He should've said something, he thinks, could've made a conversation. The instructor bustles in with coffee in one hand and multiple papers in the other, they flutter from his fingers like fallen snow. Students jump to help him. They pick up the loose sheets with many words, but Silver pays no mind to any of them. He watches as the instructor thanks them each in turn, greets the class by name, but even he has no word for the new girl in the far corner.

Silver turns, looks. But no. Her head is down. She's pulled out a book, and placed it between her legs. She flips a page as she bends forward her lips moving as she reads silently to herself. He turns his head, tries to catch the title, or maybe her eye. The second part was too much to ask for and he knows it, but the title comes slowly as he squints.

Silver reaches a hand into the knapsack beside him, moves this and that around until he comes across his own book of similar name and author, and places it before him just as the she-cat has done.

He wonders what page she's on. What she think of the heroine? The secret language?

He hasn't even begun his calf stretches when the instructor calls his name in that low voice of his and murmurs, "Silver. Put away that writing, you know what it does to your aura." Disappointment drips from his tongue.

Silver ducks his head, and places the 'contraband' (as any real world or non-spiritual enriching object is referred to) and tries to return his body to the current class position.

With a shutter, a page is flipped and Silver sees the cat switch books, completely oblivious of the others before her and what could possibly be happening to _her_ aura. Silver snorts at the thought. _Aura, what a strange (and possibly perverted) word._

He tries to focus on the way his leg is moving, how his arms are winding, but his thoughts drift behind him and he wonders if the cat likes peppermint coffee, or rain, or maybe drinking coffee in the rain that could be peppermint flavored... or, god, this would've be a whole lot easier if he had just gotten up and asked.

The attraction was rather odd if not down right creepy, he decides, she was just a new girl, he didn't even know her name, let alone her interest in single teenage hedgehogs with high hormones (whoa wait, where that come from?). Besides, ugh, what did he know? She'd probably go home to her boyfriend after class, put up her feet and watch some sitcom arm in arm with the guy, kissing in between commercials, totally satisfied with her daily dose of exercise.

But no, that didn't feel right either. There was just this feeling in the metallic hedgehog's gut from the softness of her movements, to the way she didn't bother looking up at him or anyone, that Silver couldn't believe that was true. She didn't seem to have had any real contact in a very long time. If anything, he would guess she feared it. This girl didn't have anyone waiting for her at home, at least not yet.

A breath builds in his chest, heavy and tiring, and he lets out a low sigh as the instructor pull his leg behind his head. His fellow students do the same, moving there bodies in a single waving following the common instructions without a word. Everyone's so similar, so _same_. He watches them move and whisper from the corners of his eye. He doesn't feel the time pass, doesn't hear her move, until there's a noise like a hollow _thunk._

And that's when he realizes she's moving, her body standing, the mat's being rolled. Her book lays forgotten beside her feet.

The instructor clears his throat, and she spits an apology, says she's leaving. But he's already moved onto downward dog and the rest of the class has turned their attention back to the front. She sighs, wraps the map back up with it's string and prepares her leave.

It's then, as she's closing the door, that Silver sees the book laying dead on it's spine, pages sprawled every which way.

He finds his voice and calls for her.


End file.
